


once more with feeling

by theskyeskye



Category: American Gods (TV), American Gods - Neil Gaiman
Genre: M/M, Slightly Smutty, Sweeney's POV
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-06
Updated: 2017-06-06
Packaged: 2018-11-09 22:00:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 995
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11113725
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theskyeskye/pseuds/theskyeskye
Summary: Sweeney has it bad for Shadow.





	once more with feeling

       I can’t stand him. No really, I promise you, I can’t. His brilliant smile and stupid tall, dark, and handsome routine. Brooding brown eyes– fuck. And don’t get me started on how he looks at me. Like I’m the arse! I’ve only ever been honest with him, but that’s not what he wants. He wants pretty lies and something close to normal, which, far be it for me to stand in the way of his stupid dreams. 

         “What?” he asks me, incredulous, of course, because I’m starin’ at him. I can’t help myself. He’s him. Which is vague, I understand, very vague, but Shadow isn’t the type you can easily define. He’s a proper fuck up, but loyal, and good. Not too many people in this godforsaken world can be called good. Shadow’s good. 

        “What’dyeh mean, what?” I can’t be bothered with explaining myself. It should be obvious by now. Maybe he’s just that thick. I look him over. He’s a sight to behold. I’m happy to lounge comfortably, naked as the day I was born, and watch him towel off. Always a disappointment, really, that he always showers so soon after. I deserve to smell myself on him, after all. But noooo– he’s gotta be a prick about this. 

         “You’re staring at me.” Good job, cunt. You pointed out the appallingly obvious. I’m not about to dispute the truth. Not really my style. Besides, there’s lots to stare at. 

         “Problem?” I shouldn’t push his buttons, but he’s not an easy one to rile. It’s always tempting. Always. That look he gets in his eyes, all fire and ferocity, gets my blood flowing. He’s not rising to the occasion tonight. Blowing me off, I see. Waving his hand dismissively. And going to his suitcase. “Don’t do that.” 

         Shadow turns those dark eyes on me. Whenever I’m under that gaze, I can barely move. I think he knows the effect it has on me. Still, if he’s lookin’ at me, he can’t go into his suitcase and get dressed. No. I want him like this a bit longer, dripping and… ah fuck, I can feel myself already getting hot beneath the collar. Like goddamned teenager. 

        “We have to meet Wednesday.” Oh Shadow, I know. I fuckin’ know. I just don’t care. Which, I’m sure my distaste reads plain as day on my face. I don’t want to meet Wednesday, and, to be fair, I don’t have to either. I will, if only to stay by his side. Can’t go too far, he might get himself killed. He’s no fuckin’ clue what he’s gotten himself into, and that he’s out of his depth. I’m starting to think that maybe… Just maybe, he trusts me. I’ve never given him reason not to. 

        “Come back to bed for a bit,” I’m not begging, but it’s damn close to it. The needy mess he’s made of me is sickening but satisfying. I’ve not felt this way in too long. No– I take that back. I’ve not felt this way, ever. I’ve had my fair share of lovers over the years, but Shadow is different. He’s special. Of course he’s fuckin’ special. Why else would Wednesday want him? Knowing that makes my bloody stomach twist up in knots. He’s special somehow and I can taste it in his kiss. 

        “If I get back in that bed, neither of us will leave on time.” 

         I extend a hand to Shadow. I fix him with a look that I’m hoping shows how very little I give a pixie’s arse about that. Make him wait. Make the war wait. Make the whole world wait, I don’t care. I just want you. I want you with me. I want to touch you and be inside you and kiss you. Fuck Wednesday, no, don’t fuck Wednesday– Fuck me. Shadow’s lookin’ at me like I’m a moron. And I am. I’m a moron for indulging this. I’m a moron for letting myself fall ass over tea kettle for this swarthy skinned bastard. 

        “Don’t make me beg, Shadow.” I’m not above begging. I’ve done it plenty of times. I did it just moments before Shadow slid off my cock and got in the shower. I begged him to never stop. He didn’t listen, of course. A disappointment, but also an opportunity to do it again. 

        “Sweeney.” He says my name like a warning. I love the way he can make my name sound that damn good. Every which way he says it curls up inside me, makes itself at home. Whether he’s barking it in anger, or moaning it while I rail him into next century, doesn’t matter. I love hearing my name on those perfect lips. 

         Lips I’d love to just stick my– 

       “Sweeney!” Awe fuck, he’s laughing. He knows how weak for him I am. Fuck him. I can’t stand him. I can’t stand what he’s turned me into. I’m a filthy fuckin’ mess for his stupid arse. Still, I’m getting my way. He can see how hard I am for him, and I know that’s a sight he can’t turn away from. He’s coming over, he’s going to kiss me, and suck my cock, if only to satiate me long enough to get out of bed and get dressed. Maybe I’ll choke him with it a little… Just to see him struggle with how much he likes that. 

         “You’re a saint, Shadow Moon.” My words have an effect. He’s got that stupid, brilliant smile on his face. I’ve just sent stimulus straight to his ego. Good. He could use a bit of ego. Maybe then he won’t be such a pushover for Wednes– 

         “Ahh– Ahah. Ahh… fuck you, Shadow.” His mouth feels good. I can’t be more descriptive than that, his tongue has a way of… making my brain just melt into goo. He’s attentive and still learning. I don’t mind the teeth, he’s clumsy but earnest. 

        We’re going to be late. 

        Fine by me. 


End file.
